


Prince For Knight

by Elleh



Series: Prince For Knight [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Explicit Sexual Content, Kinktober 2017, Knight AU, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, There's a bit of backstory of course, prince AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12444393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh/pseuds/Elleh
Summary: “This is a bad idea,” Iwaizumi states, and Tooru can’t quite understand why he’s saying it now from all times.“Yes,” Tooru agrees. “It has been a really bad idea since the very beginning.”“I can hang, if someone ever finds out.”“No one will.” Tooru’s not sure if his heart’s working properly anymore. Iwaizumi’s troubled expression isn’t helping with this sudden disease Tooru’s going through. “If you don’t— If this is not what you want,” Tooru manages to whisper, “you can leave. I don’t— This is not an order. I will never ask you…”please, please, want this too.“I’ve wanted you since the first time you threw me on the ground.”





	Prince For Knight

**Author's Note:**

> prompt Mirror Sex for day 22 of Kinktober 2017. This is a medieval au in which Oikawa is the prince of the kingdom and Iwaizumi its main knight. (i'm a sucker for knight/prince relationship, can't help it)

If the room builds up more tension, Tooru will choke on it. He can feel it caressing his hands, the back of his arms, the showing collarbones. It’s hard to swallow, when Tooru can feel Iwaizumi’s gaze across the room, piercing him. Tooru keeps his smile in place, the emissary with whom he’s talking charmed by Tooru’s flirting. No one has noticed, thank god.

Tooru glances at his father, and sighs relieved at the sight of the king laughing languidly with two foreign dignitaries. He hasn’t even realised his Head of Knights is about to murder his son the Prince, but once again, Tooru’s not sure if his father’s able to see anything he doesn’t want to see.

“Prince Tooru.” Tooru brings back his attention to the short perfumed man he’s talking to. He feels his lips falter when he sees Iwaizumi start walking around the room. “You’re _not_ what I imagined.”

“Really?” Tooru’s heart races faster and faster with every step Iwaizumi takes, his eyes never leaving Tooru’s stance. “How did you imagine me, sir?”

“Well,” the man giggles, and the sound is loud and annoying. “Your father has had some… _complains_ about your behaviour as late.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, of course,” if the man laughs louder Tooru’s brain will melt, “I should have known better. Fathers are harsher on their sons than they ought be, don’t you think, your grace?”

Tooru can feel his heartbeat on his throat and his temples. His back burns, the power of Iwaizumi’s anger enough to set him on fire, but Tooru’s hands tremble for other reasons. His muscles, trained expertly by no other than Iwaizumi Hajime, twitch, urging Tooru to close his fist and punch the stupid man. And yet, Tooru doesn’t allow his instinct to act, for his heart knows what his training fails to understand.

The emissary's just a pawn in this silent and unfair war. The person who Tooru wants to kick is his own father, but that will never happen.

Iwaizumi walks closer, and Tooru tenses like steel cooling down.

The music starts to play again right when Iwaizumi steps behind Tooru. The emissary, still unaware of the knight’s presence, lights up to the sound and offers Tooru his hand.

“Your grace, would you give me the honor of this dance?”

Well, _no,_ thank you, but Tooru can’t say that, now, can he?

“I’ll be—”

“Excuse me, sir.” Tooru bristles at the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice. “Mister emissary, I need to take _Prince Tooru_ for a second, if you’d allow me?”

Tooru’s chest constricts, his heart beating furiously in every nerve and vein he possesses. He tries to mouth to the emissary, a single no the man ignores the same way he has been ignoring Tooru’s discomfort all night.

“Knight Iwaizumi!” Tooru grimaces at the emissary’s excitement. His eyes had open widely, and if Tooru’s reading him properly, he’s one second from tearing his clothes off and giving himself to the knight. “Of course, of course! I wouldn’t want to interfere.”

Tooru gapes like a fish out of water when the man turns around without another word, leaving Tooru alone with Iwaizumi and his lies.

He doesn’t turn around, but there’s no need for it. Iwaizumi presses his armoured chest against Tooru’s back, and the threat is as loud as it is painful.

Iwaizumi’s enraged breath kicks Tooru’s nape, and the prince closes his eyes and holds a moan.

“ _A fucking grocer’s son_.” Tooru inhales a shaky breath. “Are you kidding me? I could hang for this!”

Tooru wants to take Iwaizumi’s furious whisper and put it in a bottle, that he’ll proceed to throw into the sea and see it sail far, far away.

“No one knows,” Tooru manages to said. “No one will ever know. I told you I was done. You taught me all I had to know. Now it’s over.”

“You fucking knew I will meet you tonight, didn’t you.” Something akin to sadness hits Tooru’s heart, the desolation in Iwaizumi’s voice too much to handle. He closes his eyes, and lets the knight throw at him every bit of rage he’s more than entitled to feel. “I told you— I told you how much becoming Head of Knights meant to me.”

Tooru is breathless for a second by the implications of the statement. He can’t stop himself when he turns around, eyes burning with equal fury as Iwaizumi’s are.

“Don’t you dare,” Tooru whispers, his finger pointing at the steel on his chest. “I had _nothing_ to do with it, and I will _never_ put that position in danger.”

“Don’t you see.” Iwaizumi shakes his head, and Tooru’s stomach drops to the ground. “You already have. The moment you stepped in my training arena, you destroyed my future.”

“Oh, god, stop being so melodramatic.” Tooru’s breathing heavily, he’s starting to lose his temper and his pretence, and if they stay here much longer, some gazes will start turning their way. “We can’t have this conversation here. Find me after the party. I’ll be waiting for you in my rooms.”

“Do you really believe I will come to _your_ chambers after this?” The wry in his voice doesn’t hide the hurt Iwaizumi’s harboring, and although it makes Tooru’s insides flinch, he doesn’t back down.

“Yes you _will_ ,” Tooru takes a short step, closing the distance. Iwaizumi looks about to kill, his green eyes filled with betrayal, and pain, and loss and Tooru’s not sure he can take all of it. “You have no option.”

Iwaizumi turns around and leaves without a word, the rushed steps almost breaking the marble of the ground. Tooru tries to fill his lungs, but they are stuck being full and tasting nasty. He tries to build his courage smiling to the nearby guests, but deep down he’s nothing but a puddle of despair.

 

*

 

The garments he’s wearing are heavy and too big for his body and Tooru doesn’t even know why he’s wearing them, because they will only enrage Iwaizumi even more. And yet, here he stands, in front of the big mirror in his room, unable to answer his own gaze. Instead, he focuses on the bleached corners misting his image with a copper aura, as if hell has started to crawl around him in due preparation.

Tooru turns around when he hears a soft knock. His hand flies to his throat, as if the trembling palm could keep his heart there, where’s now located and beating furiously.

“Come in,” he manages to say hoarsely. There’s a long, weighted second of silence, before the door creaks open.

Tooru holds his breath.

Iwaizumi has changed his official armour for a lighter one, the one Tooru has seen hundreds of times in their training sessions. The brown leather and the rusty silver of the steel fit Iwaizumi like a second skin, and Tooru can’t but swallow at the sight. The rush in his blood makes his brain become mist, and Tooru has to face the fact he has been harboring confusing feelings for his damn swordsmanship teacher for way too long.

He doesn’t know how to face Iwaizumi when his heart’s about to burst and his clothes are ridiculous, and he has basically betrayed any trust Iwaizumi had given him.

“I’m so—”

“Your grace.” Tooru lifts his eyes at the sound of that, distant and indifferent. He knows his eyes are full of it, but Iwaizumi barely reacts. “I would like for you to relegate me to my previous position.”

“I’m not doing that,” Tooru chuckles, desperate, and Iwaizumi frowns. “I won’t do that. I told you.” The smile falls from Tooru’s lips, his hands holding each other in a trembling mess. “I had nothing to do with it. My father— You’ve been the favourite since last year. What you did, you did on your own.”

“There’s no proof of that,” Tooru takes a step back when Iwaizumi lifts his chin, proud and hurt.

“I’m telling you.”

“Your word means nothing to me,” Iwaizumi sneers, and Tooru loses sight for a second. “I can’t trust you after what you did.”

“I did nothing wrong!” the lie feels eerily light on his mouth. “I just wanted to learn! I needed to learn! Why’s that so wrong?”

“Because you involved me!” Iwaizumi finally rages out. He takes a step forward, a bulk of desperation and fury and muscles about to collide with Tooru’s body. “You used me! That’s what’s wrong! You could have told me the truth—”

“Yeah?” Tooru laughs, but god, it sounds as broken as he’s feeling. “I would have told you: _knight Iwaizumi, teach me sword fighting_ , and then what?” Iwaizumi frowns. He’s not impressed by Tooru’s rage, but at least he’s ashamed enough to tear his gaze down. “I’ll tell you what would have happened. You would have said a lot of _your grace_ ’s and then you would have knightly escorted me back to the castle and I would have had no training at all!”

“You could have chosen someone _else_.”

“And I _did_.” Tooru sighs loudly when he hears his voice echo. “Do you really think I wanted a high ranked knight to teach me? I’m not stupid.” Iwaizumi inhales deeply, and Tooru has to hide his eyes behind his hand. “You were basically my absolute no, but then you got involved and you…”

Tooru can’t finish. There’s this annoying thing on his throat, cotton or filth or maybe just this stupid want he has been feeding for weeks and weeks and can’t suppress anymore.

“Look, To— Your grace.” Iwaizumi grimaces at the sound of Tooru’s almost name. “Just dismiss me from my actual rank, and I will—”

“Based on what? I can’t tell my father…” Realisation finally kicks in when Iwaizumi’s grave eyes lock with his. “You expect me to tell my father the truth? Are you nuts? He will kick you out completely.”

“It’s what I deserve.” Tooru has to swallow when Iwaizumi crosses his arms, his tight muscles stretching the leather till it almost bursts open. “I didn’t do my job properly. I fucked it up.”

“Can you stop already? God!” Tooru turns around, hands on his hips. The fact he’s panting is irrelevant in this maddening situation. He stares at his feet reflected on the huge mirror, and wishes for this night to vanish entirely. “Your hero complex is disproportionate, you know that?”

Tooru can’t help but watch Iwaizumi shake his head, his pressed lips softly relaxing. He hasn’t answered Tooru’s gaze yet, and Tooru needs only a moment to realise he’s avoiding looking at Tooru entirely.

“You leaving the castle will do no good. You will stay where you are, the place you earned, and we will forget this ever happened.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well, try harder.”

Iwaizumi huffs soundly. “I’m gonna resign if you don’t do it.”

“For god’s sake!” Tooru throws his arms into the air, frustration getting the best of him. He feels unable to turn around, so he waits until Iwaizumi answers his gaze through the mirror. “I’m not allowing you to step out of your position.”

“Are you _ordering_ me?” Iwaizumi can’t get out of his own astonishment.

“Yes.” Tooru throws his chin up, back straightened. His prince stance is more than perfect, so Tooru frowns when Iwaizumi sniggers. “What are you laughing at?”

“At you! I can’t believe you think I’ll actually follow your order.”

“I _am_ your prince,” Tooru’s tone gets serious on the spot, and Iwaizumi opens his eyes at the sound of it. He straightens his back and his green eyes grow dark. Tooru regrets his words as soon as Iwaizumi’s stance changes. “I didn’t— I don’t want to order you, dammit. I just—”

“As your grace commands.”

“Stop it.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“You know it isn’t.”

“Well, your grace, I can’t treat you any other way,” Iwaizumi’s honesty hurts Tooru more than his fists will ever do. Tooru lets his eyes fall on his feet again, and tries to breathe. “I guess you were right. I couldn’t have trained you if you’ve told me the truth, but princes shouldn’t fight. They _lead_.”

Tooru can’t stop himself. He turns around and hits Iwaizumi’s covered chest with all his rage and all his frustration and this absolute want he can’t think of. It doesn’t hurt Iwaizumi, as Tooru already expected, but he does it again, because the physical pain is enough to lessen the emotional bag he’s drowning in.

With the first hit, Iwaizumi looks startled. With the second, he roughly takes Tooru’s hands and keeps him from hitting Iwaizumi’s armor a third time.

“Are you stupid? You’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care! Let me go.” Tooru tries to fight Iwaizumi, but there’s no way the apprentice can surpass the master. They struggle for a second, Tooru’s hands trying to reach Iwaizumi’s skin and Iwaizumi keeping Tooru from harming himself, but it’s no use. In no time Tooru’s turned around, his arms on his sides, Iwaizumi’s keeping him with his back against Iwaizumi’s chest. Tooru tries to free himself, but Iwaizumi’s body has years of harsh training whereas Tooru’s has been protected all his life.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Iwaizumi says softly on Tooru’s ear, and Tooru defleates. He lets his weight fall on Iwaizumi, and for a long second, he enjoys the sturdy strength that’s holding him. “Your grace—”

“Stop calling me that!” Tooru starts struggling against Iwaizumi’s arms, that tighten with the sudden movement. “I’m not your prince! Call me by my name. Call me by my name!”

“I can’t do that.” Tooru’s too occupied fighting Iwaizumi to pay attention to his defeated tone. “Look, you’re right. I haven’t managed this the best I—”

“Say my name,” Tooru urges, cutting Iwaizumi’s words. Tooru’s gaze is powerful enough to send its fury through the misted mirror, and Iwaizumi needs some heartbeats to answer it. “Say it.”

“You know I won’t.”

“Say it!”

“Your grace—”

“Why won’t you say it!”

“You know why!” Iwaizumi’s gaze burns Tooru’s body, the reflection of his eyes powerful enough to stop Tooru’s words. Tooru bites his lip when he realises he can’t take his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s enraged ones. “This is insane! This should have never happened in the first place!”

“Well, it did!” Tooru tries to kick him, but Iwaizumi manages to hold his leg between his without falling. Tooru’s chest expands against Iwaizumi’s forearms, and he’s sure his heart’s one second from jumping out of its cage and directly into the knight’s hands. “It did! And you trained me! And I…”

Tooru growls loudly. The words are right there, on his tongue. _And I’m totally attracted to you, isn’t it funny?_ But it’s not funny, god. It’s the opposite of funny because Tooru knows he will never have Iwaizumi in either way. No teacher, no friend, and absolutely no lover.

“You what?” Tooru lets his head fall against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His back hurts, but the damn knight smells too good to not do so. Iwaizumi’s still watching him through the mirror. “You what?”

“Now you treat me like an equal?” Tooru sneers. “Where are all your your grace’s at, huh?”

Iwaizumi stares at Tooru with such intensity a fire lits up somewhere inside his belly. Tooru has all this frustration and all this yearning and all this want guarded there, and it’s impressive how inflammable emotions actually are.

“I’m not saying your name,” Iwaizumi’s strength’s nowhere to be seen. He’s frowning, as if the reality those words hide is too much even for him. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing,” Tooru says, honest. “I never wanted to play. This just… got out of hand.”

Tooru doesn’t move when Iwaizumi’s grip loosens, but he holds his breath when Iwaizumi’s hands fall on Tooru’s hips, and stay there. The knight looks disturbed, as if he can’t quite figure out where right and wrong stand anymore. Tooru understands the struggle, because he has been fighting it all his life.

It must be hard for Iwaizumi to confront it for the first time here, in this dark room, with a reckless prince still held on his arms.

“I don’t know what this is,” Iwaizumi finally says, his fingers slowly caressing Tooru’s flesh on their fall. “But it can’t happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I won’t be your bitch.”

Tooru’s breathless by the roughness of that statement. He blushes, rage turning his burning body into a boiling mess. “How dare you?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Iwaizumi keeps looking at Tooru through the mirror and it feels as dangerous as it feels hot, to know he’s right there, behind him, and he can literally do to Tooru anything he wants while the prince just watches.

“No,” Tooru lies.

“So, if I were to have you right here, right now…” Iwaizumi whispers on Tooru’s neck, and Tooru might lose his thinking abilities for a second. “You’d say no?”

Tooru wants to answer him, _of course I’d say no_ , but the lie doesn’t leave his lips this time. It just stays there, melting into a puddle of need he isn’t aware has grown this huge. Tooru never takes his eyes away from the shadows in Iwaizumi’s expression, and he’s not sure he could even if he wanted to.

“Well? Are you planning on answering?”

Tooru manages to shake his head, and Iwaizumi disappears behind him, the mirror only showing Tooru’s body wearing the stupid garments and Iwaizumi’s arms at his sides.

“What’s that no for?” Iwaizumi asks at Tooru’s nape, and the prince gasps. “You’d say no? Or you’re not planning on answering?”

And before Tooru has time to think a retort, Iwaizumi’s mouth finds his skin and bites him.

Tooru moans. Not really loud, but in the silent night it sounds like a cry of need, a cry for help. He’s so ashamed he has to close his eyes to avoid meeting Iwaizumi’s expression. Tooru startles when Iwaizumi’s hands start roaming over his chest, the stupid clothes keeping his touch away from Tooru’s skin.

“You won’t—” Tooru holds his breath when Iwaizumi bites him again. “You won’t be my bitch.”

“What’s that, now?”

With a single pull, Iwaizumi makes Tooru’s ass collide with his crotch. It’s hard and hot and Tooru opens his eyes widely the second he feels it. Iwaizumi’s eyes catch his, and Tooru has never felt this overwhelmed by a single gaze in his entire life.

“Well?”

“If you won’t be my bitch,” Tooru manages to gasp, “why are you doing this?”

“I never said you can’t be mine.”

Tooru’s not proud of the moan that fills his room then, loud enough to wake up the entire castle. Iwaizumi’s eyes are fired up, greens becoming ashen roots when his mouth travels around Tooru’s neck until its side, leaving bites and red marks and saliva, wets spots the air freezes in Iwaizumi’s absence. The image of Iwaizumi’s hands, big and trustful and steady travelling around Tooru’s body makes the prince bite his lip, and he has to let his head fall against Iwaizumi’s shoulder again when the knight finally finds the buttons of the damn garments.

“You look ridiculous with this,” Iwaizumi whispers roughly. “Why are you wearing it?”

“Trying the power of your nostalgia?” Tooru titters at Iwaizumi’s arched eyebrow. “I thought you’d be less angry if you saw— these.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you’d remember how hopeless and lost I was the first time I came to the training arenas.”

Tooru’s fascinated by the long fingers undressing him. He’s never seen it like this before, the absolute image of his entire body, of Iwaizumi’s entire body. It’s as if he’s seeing all of this happen from someone else’s perspective, all the while feeling in his own skin exactly what he’s witnessing.

Iwaizumi’s fingers keep working with diligence, his nose caressing Tooru’s skin.

“I only remember an annoying kid who’d entered the most secure place in town.”

Tooru hums, proud. He’s so focused on the way his skin is starting to show, he misses the tender smile Iwaizumi throws to the mirror.

“Good enough,” Tooru says, breathless. There’s one button left, but Iwaizumi has suddenly lost all his hurry. “Well? Are you planning on playing with it all night or—”

Iwaizumi stops his fingers. Tooru rises his gaze, and the moment he finds Iwaizumi’s eyes, his heart does a really weird, really annoying dance.

“This is a bad idea,” Iwaizumi states, and Tooru can’t quite understand why he’s saying it now from all times.

“Yes,” Tooru agrees. “It has been a really bad idea since the very beginning.”

“I can hang, if someone ever finds out.”

“No one will.” Tooru’s not sure if his heart’s working properly anymore. Iwaizumi’s troubled expression isn’t helping with this sudden disease Tooru’s going through. “If you don’t— If this is not what you want,” Tooru manages to whisper, “you can leave. I don’t— This is not an order. I will never ask you…” _please, please, want this too_.

“I’ve wanted you since the first time you threw me on the ground.”

Tooru closes his eyes. He remembers that training. It had been the second week. Tooru had managed, somehow, to properly use all the fighting movements Iwaizumi had taught him, and he had put his teacher on his ass. Tooru can’t recall a time he had felt more proud than that one.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi undoes the last button while Tooru still has his eyes closed. The cool air caresses Tooru’s skin, the absence of Iwaizumi’s hands properly noticed. “Imagine my surprise when I came to the banquet tonight and there you were, standing with a fucking crown on your head and that damn smile on your lips.”

Tooru arches his back, trying to reach for Iwaizumi’s touch. He’s scared of opening his eyes, of facing his mistakes. For now, he just wants to feel the knight’s calloused palms on his skin and forget he ever had a title.

Iwaizumi gives him what he’s looking for, when he puts his cold hands on Tooru’s chest. Tooru hisses, but leans harder against them. Iwaizumi pushes him towards himself, and the way he holds Tooru’s hips in place right atop his crotch makes the prince feel lighted.

“Won’t you apologise?”

“I can’t help any of it.”

“Open your eyes.”

Tooru groans softly when Iwaizumi starts caressing him with light touches giving him goose bumps, but can’t comply. The cold air, the cold hands, the fire from his own skin. Tooru can’t keep up with all the sensations.

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

Tooru gasps loudly when Iwaizumi puts his hand under his pants. He opens his eyes, the single touch enough to make him breathe harshly. Iwaizumi’s watching him with intent through the mirror, and Tooru gets caught up on how enchanting it is to feel something while you’re seeing it happen to someone else.

He’s fascinated by the bulge in his pants, moving with killing slowness. Iwaizumi’s strokes are firm and silk and Tooru bites his tongue because moaning again will be shameful. Still, Tooru’s eyes feel unable to leave the image of his cock being stroked under his garments, the image too subtle and too telling to be processed properly.

“You’re fascinated by your own image, aren’t you, your grace.”

Tooru can’t be mad at the stupid honorific. He nods, thoughtless, and wishes for his pants to vanish, so he can see what’s going on underneath.

“I wanna see your hand,” Tooru says in a daze, not sure he’s spoken until Iwaizumi stops. Tooru grimaces, the warmth still nice and pleasant, but missing Iwaizumi’s strokes.

“Where?”

“In me.”

“It already is,” and to demonstrate, Iwaizumi strokes him again. Tooru shivers and shakes his head.

“Undress me,” he gasps. “I wanna see—” Iwaizumi lubricates his fingers with Tooru’s precum, his work billowing Tooru’s pants and making him blush. “ _Ahh_ , I wanna see your hands on me, _mmmh_.”

Iwaizumi’s on his knees before Tooru finishes talking. The mirror shows Iwaizumi’s hands working Tooru’s buttons and pulling from his pants with a strength Tooru can’t but be impressed by. Before long, Tooru’s watching the reflection of his naked legs, his swollen cock trying to reach for his navel, Iwaizumi’s hungry face licking a path on Tooru’s buttock.

“Do you do this much?”

“Fuck knights?” Tooru says before he can control the impulse. His eyes are locked with the wandering of Iwaizumi’s fingers, caressing his thighs; of his tongue and lips, working the skin of his ass. Tooru groans loudly when Iwaizumi bites his buttock hard enough to leave the depression of his teeth on him.

“Do you fuck knights often?” Iwaizumi asks, his hands still so close to Tooru’s throbbing cock it’s actually painful.

“No,” Tooru whispers with honesty. “You’re my first.”

Iwaizumi rises at that, slowly. Tooru sees the shadow of his presence on the mirror, feels the whisper of his movement on his naked legs, on his covered back. Iwaizumi lets his hands caress Tooru’s sides in his way up, and by the time he’s standing again at his back, Tooru’s shivering uncontrollably.

He can barely help Iwaizumi undress him, when the knight takes a hold of the remaining clothes and pulls them off. Tooru watches Iwaizumi discard them on the ground, his still armored body hidden behind Tooru’s now naked one.

When Iwaizumi presses himself on his back, Tooru shudders at the taste of the cold steel against his skin. He wiggles his hips, trying to feel Iwaizumi as naked as he is, but finds nothing. Instead, Iwaizumi holds him in place, an arm around his chest, his mouth kissing his nape, his other hand wandering dangerously close to where Tooru wants him the most. Tooru feels the need to grab him and guide him to where he wants it; of grabbing his ass and bury his nails on it.

But Iwaizumi is like a wizard, his eyes his magic potion. Tooru drinks from them, gasps when they sparkle with mischievous intent, moans when they half close, Iwaizumi’s hand finally grabbing Tooru’s cock.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Iwaizumi wets Tooru’s neck with his tongue, his hand working Tooru with the same rhythm he’s working his neck. Tooru pants, Iwaizumi’s arm holding him in place.

“What, _aah_ , what question?” Tooru feels his cock pulsating, his legs twitching. He leans on Iwaizumi even more and moans when Iwaizumi’s hand changes its pace.

“Do you fuck yourself in front of this mirror?” Tooru pants. “Do you, your grace? Do you sit in your bed and open your legs and fuck yourself while you think of me?”

Tooru whimpers. He opens his legs unable to hold the urge, trying to make Iwaizumi’s hand go everywhere. Tooru sees his own body moving on the mirror, he sees his flushed skin, how hard his cock is inside Iwaizumi’s grip. The image is too much to handle, and trying to get a hold of something physical instead of this visual fantasy that’s making him lose his mind, Tooru puts his hand on Iwaizumi’s nape and holds tight.

He’s breathing shallowly, soft cries leaving his lips every time the tip of his cock appears through Iwaizumi’s fingers. The damn armor, now heated with Tooru’s warmth, is keeping him from feeling Iwaizumi against him.

“Undress yourself,” Tooru moans, and Iwaizumi bites his lobe. “Please.”

“Do you fuck yourself thinking of me?”

“Yes, _yes_.” Tooru rocks his hips, the need taking over his impulses. He gapes at Iwaizumi, his mouth trying to reach his skin and failing. “Undress yourself,” Tooru begs, and the hand Iwaizumi is using to hold Tooru in place travels to Tooru’s jaw and turns his face.

The kiss is sloppy and dirty and wet, Tooru’s tongue needy and demanding. Iwaizumi fucks his mouth the same way he’s fucking his cock, and Tooru’s ass wiggles against the knight’s crotch shamelessly. He feels empty and hot and feverish. His skin is tickling with the absence of Iwaizumi’s touch on it, and he tears his mouth away, filling the room with Iwaizumi’s groan.

“Take that stupid armor off.”

“Not yet.”

Tooru whimpers. Iwaizumi’s mouth ravishes his while his hand keeps working him, his grip, his strokes, the raspy palm doing things to Tooru’s senses he would have never imagined possible. His hips fuck Iwaizumi’s hand, and yet, it’s not enough. If this is the only thing Iwaizumi is willing to give, Tooru wants nothing.

“Please, please,” Tooru moans, Iwaizumi’s mouth kissing and biting his cheeks when his lips get too far away. “Let me feel you.”

“What for?”

Tooru arches his back, fitting his ass directly on top of Iwaizumi’s dick. He gasps, surprised to feel the hard bulge against his naked body, and swivels, fascinated by the warmth the mere feeling sends through him.

Iwaizumi holds him in place, his hand still on his jaw, his mouth devouring his lobe. Tooru shakes all over when Iwaizumi whispers again, harshly:

“What for?”

“For you to fuck me properly.”

“Ask me nicely.”

Iwaizumi takes his hips away and crashes them back against Tooru’s ass, stealing from the prince’s lips a long, loud whimper. When he pushes away, Tooru fights the knight’s grip, but Iwaizumi keeps himself away, the only connection now his hand around Tooru’s dick and his mouth on Tooru’s neck.

“I won’t fuck you until you say it.”

“Fuck me. Fuck. Me.”

Instead of obeying, Iwaizumi wets his fingers with Tooru’s precum, and without a word, puts his hand on Tooru’s entrance, the tight ring of nerves already pulsating. Tooru can’t breathe. He pushes his hips backwards, following Iwaizumi’s fingers. He wants them around, he wants them inside, he wants everything.

Iwaizumi caresses the rim, as if his finger were about to slip inside. He teases, Tooru’s wetness cooling his sensitive nerves. His belly feels lit on fire, and trying to get away from the not enough pleasure, Tooru turns his attention back to the mirror.

It’s a mistake. He can see Iwaizumi’s hungry gaze peeking from his shoulder, his hand a hint between Tooru’s legs. Tooru can’t take his eyes away from it, a ghostly touch where Tooru needs him with urgency. His cock, throbbing and thick, rests against his navel, as attentive to Iwaizumi’s fingers as Tooru’s ass is.

“Do it,” Tooru mouths, breathless. “Put them in.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please, oh big knight, fuck me senseless.”

The mirror reflects the change in Iwaizumi’s magic eyes. The hunger that was there a second ago becomes a want Tooru’s not sure he can answer, and before Tooru can act upon it, he’s been turned around and kissed until his thoughts are nothing but dust.

It’s different, like this. It feels closer and more dangerous than before, Tooru’s hands unable to stop themselves when they get lost in Iwaizumi’s hair, in Iwaizumi’s armor, in Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi’s hands find Tooru’s butt and squeeze, Tooru’s mouth losing its pace with it.

“You’re still pretty dressed,” Tooru manages to say while his mouth is still on Iwaizumi’s. The knight grunts.

“Help me take some of it off.”

“Why are you wearing all of this?”

“I was trying to avoid doing precisely what we are doing.” The steel falls on the ground, followed by the leather protection from under it. Tooru licks his lips at Iwaizumi’s sweaty chest, the ups and downs tempting and alluring. “Stop looking at me.”

“I can’t,” Tooru moans when Iwaizumi’s hands are about to undo his pants. The knight takes them off too fast, and before Tooru knows what’s going on, he’s facing the mirror again. “Why?”

“I want you to see how I fuck you.”

Tooru’s heartbeat races, every muscle, every vein, every cell pulsating as if Iwaizumi were playing them. Were playing him. In a way Tooru guesses it’s true. He can’t recall any other person he has felt this attracted to, the need to put everything he has in danger for a single moment of pleasure.

Through the glass, Tooru sees Iwaizumi pour something on his fingers, and his mouth dries.

“Where—”

“The fact I didn’t want to do this doesn’t mean I wasn’t planning to.”

Tooru giggles, the high of his unreached orgasm filling him with frustration and laughs and a need to go down on his four and see the end of it.

Iwaizumi has other plans. Instead of pushing Tooru to the ground, he kisses his shoulder blade, his nape, the soft skin behind his ear. Tooru can’t but blink at the tenderness of his actions, until the wet and cold fingers find Tooru’s entrance again.

“ _Aaaahhh, mmmmh_.” Tooru wants to talk, say something pompous or stupid or just coherent, but Iwaizumi’s having none of it. His hands are working Tooru in sync, his left stroking his cock, red and heavy on his palm, his right teasing the rim of Tooru’s ass. Tooru’s knees buckle, and he’s not sure he will be able to keep standing for much longer.

The mirror shows him blushed and shivering and gaping like a dying fish.

“Iwa—” a finger enters Tooru, and the small brain the prince had left vanishes. “ _Mmmmh_ , more— _Ah_!” Tooru clenches around Iwaizumi’s finger when the knight takes it out and in in slow thrusts. It feels weird and sort of invasive, but after some moments Tooru’s gasping for more. “Iwaiz— _fuuck_. Another, anoth— _uhmmmm_ ,” Tooru’s hips start to rock inside Iwaizumi’s hand, around Iwaizumi’s fingers. Tooru feels overwhelmed. He sees himself in the mirror, he sees Iwaizumi fucking him, and Tooru’s brain breaks. “Iwa— Iwa–chan,” he moans when a third finger gets in.

Iwaizumi doesn’t stop, not working his cock, nor fingering his ass. Tooru’s hips are moving trying to find more, trying to escape from more, but in each end he finds another bit of pleasure. He feels full and about to burst, but there’s still not enough.

When the knight finds his sweet spot, Tooru whines loudly. “Stop, stop.”

Panting, Tooru needs a second to realise the knight has, indeed, stopped. He’s watching Tooru through the mirror, his eyes hazed and feverish. Iwaizumi’s three fingers are still inside him, his hand’s still around Tooru, but Tooru has yet to touch him.

“I’m ready.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t need more. He takes a hold of Tooru’s chin and turns him around to kiss the hell out of his mouth, the fingers slowly pulling out. Tooru shakes, and when the emptiness gets almost unbearable, he bites Iwaizumi’s lips. “Fuck me properly.”

Tooru’s pushed closer to the mirror in answer.

“Put your hands there.” Tooru does. “Now open your legs.” Tooru does. “Shit, your ass—” before Tooru realises what’s happening, Iwaizumi spreads his legs wider and falls on his knees between them. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

Tooru doesn’t. Iwaizumi disappears behind him and Tooru’s fascinated by the hard, pulsing dick Iwaizumi has now between his own hands. He’s jerking himself, slow motions Tooru can’t but follow with his hungry eyes. Tooru’s so occupied watching Iwaizumi working himself, he moans in surprise when Iwaizumi’s mouth finds his hole.

Spreading the wetness he already left there, Iwaizumi teases Tooru’s entrance with the tip of his tongue, swirling it around, pushing in. Tooru feels his ass tight around it, his chest about to explode by the harsh breaths he’s taking.

He wants to scream: _more! More, more, more!_ But the only thing leaving Tooru’s lips are: _ahh, mmmh, oh god, oh god, ahhhh_. Tooru’s eyes are filled with Iwaizumi stroking himself while he eats Tooru out, and it becomes too much too soon.

“Put it in! Put it in!”

Tooru’s head falls between his arms when Iwaizumi takes his devilish mouth away. The fact he’s still standing is a miracle. Tooru doesn’t think he has ever felt this weak, the denied orgasm stealing all his energies and sending them to his cock and his ass.

He feels Iwaizumi standing on his back, his hands grabbing Tooru’s hips and arching them enough for his dick to caress his buttocks. Tooru whimpers, the head of Iwaizumi’s cock teasing his entrance, slipping away, coming back. Tooru’s hips start to rock, and when Iwaizumi hits right on his hole, Tooru yelps.

“Stay still.” Tooru can’t. The moment Iwaizumi, hands on Tooru’s hips, enters him, the world loses all stability.

The knight does it slow, too slow. Tooru gasps, saliva falling from his open mouth to the ground. The sounds he’s making are loud and lewd and harsh and they echo through the room shamelessly, just like Tooru’s pushing his hips back, trying to fill himself faster.

“Stay still,” Iwaizumi repeats, but instead of holding him in place, he lets one of his hands roam till it reaches Tooru’s cock. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Tooru says breathless. “Move.”

Iwaizumi does and it’s glorious. Tooru tries to rise his head, to see the way Iwaizumi is fucking his title and his sanity out of him, but he feels too weak, too sensitive to the physicality to focus on his vision. Iwaizumi thrusts into Tooru with a grunt, trying their pace, and when he does it again, Tooru swears he sees stars shine on the damn mirror between his hands.

“Lift your head.”

“I can’t.”

Iwaizumi lifts it for him. Grabbing Tooru’s hair, he softly tugs him back, Tooru’s ear caught between Iwaizumi’s teeth. Tooru moans at the sight of them both, so close. He can’t handle how good it feels, seeing his reflection being fucked, feeling exactly what he’s seeing happening right on the other side of his hands. It feels like a dream lived twice at the same time.

Iwaizumi’s thrusts start long and slow, a hand on Tooru’s hair, another in Tooru’s hip, leaving bruises. Tooru’s fingers scratch the mirror when Iwaizumi’s cock fastens it speed. The swirling of Tooru’s hips adds to the fullness of Iwaizumi’s dick deeply buried on him, and when the head of Iwaizumi’s cock hits the right spot, Tooru’s head falls back. He wants to moan and yell and cry, but there’s no air entering his lungs, for Iwaizumi hits it again. And again, and again, every time faster and harder, as if the way Tooru’s ass is clenching around his cock tells him exactly where to reach.

“Oh god, Iwa–chan,” Tooru whimpers. “Again, there, _there,_ _aahhhh_.”

Iwaizumi groans on Tooru’s ear, his hips bucking against Tooru’s ass, the loud sound of wet skin slapping wet skin almost as loud as Tooru’s moans. His legs are shaking, his cock is throbbing, his head is about to explode. Tooru puts his hand back, blindly looking for Iwaizumi to hold onto, his eyes rolled back and unable to see anything from the mirror anymore.

He finds Iwaizumi’s nape and digs his nails there, forcing a loud grunt out of Iwaizumi’s lips. Tooru’s panting, meaningless words leaving his lips in pleas. He feels full to the core, the shape of Iwaizumi’s cock imprinted in his insides, in his ass, in his memory. The image of Iwaizumi jerking himself hits Tooru, his own spread legs, the man eating his ass while working himself. It puts him on the edge. He’s so close, a new hit, _aahhh, Iwa–chan_ , Iwaizumi’s mouth marking him, keeping him in place by the shoulder. Tooru just needs a bit more, a bit—

Iwaizumi senses his orgasm, somehow. He forces Tooru to look forward, the mirror giving back the reflection of a man he has never seen before. His hair is a mess, his cheeks couldn’t be redder, and he’s being fucked senseless by the head of knights of his kingdom.

“You look like a fucking fantasy,” Iwaizumi rasps out, and takes Tooru’s cock in his hand.

A single stroke, and Tooru’s over the edge, flying. The world becomes black, tinted in misted copper. He feels Iwaizumi’s cock thrusting with maddening speed, his own cock being worked with a harsh and yet tender grip, his ears filled with a voice Tooru will never forget.

He hears himself yell Iwaizumi’s name, moaning senseless sounds.

Tooru spills all over, his head still on the clouds of maddening pleasure.

When he opens his eyes again, Tooru’s surprised to find himself still standing. He’s still in front of the mirror, now dirtied in white. He can see Iwaizumi’s body moving behind him, his cock filling him once, twice, three times, and then the knight pulls out with a moan and stills and tenses all over, the warmth of his come spurting on Tooru’s lower back and buttcheeks.

Tooru tries to move, but he can’t. He’s drained out completely, and when Iwaizumi’s hands leave Tooru’s hips, the prince’s legs finally give in.

Iwaizumi catches him before he falls, and they both end up sitting on the ground, Tooru like a doll between Iwaizumi’s legs. He’s breathing shallowly, his skin bright with sweat. Tooru hums softly when Iwaizumi strokes his hair away from his face, and pushes Tooru’s head against his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Iwaizumi manages to ask after a while.

Tooru nods, half asleep.

“Tooru—” The prince opens his eyes at the sound of his name, and Iwaizumi must see the smile on the mirror, for he frowns. “What?”

“You finally said it.”

Iwaizumi tenses, but Tooru kisses his collarbone and lays against him again, getting comfortable.

“This is not a thing.”

“Saying my name?”

“Us.” Tooru blinks but says nothing. “This won’t happen again.”

“It will.”

“Are you for real?” Iwaizumi stands, leaving Tooru shivering on the cold ground. God, he needs a bath. “I’m serious.”

“This will happen again,” Tooru says calmly. “You can deny it now and regret it later when it happens. Or you can accept it and be happy with it.”

“You are the prince.”

“Yes.”

“Having sex with the prince is an absolute no.”

“And yet, you just did.” Tooru stands as well, a yawn taking over his expression. He smiles at Iwaizumi’s bewildered expression, and pats his cheek. “Good night, Iwa–chan. I’ll see you around.”

The corridor is dark and cold, the muffled sound of clacking armors down the stairs a reminder of what Iwaizumi has just put in risk when he steps out of Tooru’s room. Wearing his leather covers, his armor in his arms, the knight stares at the stoned walls and sighs deeply.

This was a mistake, but damn him and damn his prince, a mistake that’s gonna happen again, because it’s a mistake Iwaizumi can’t quite bring himself to regret.

**Author's Note:**

> (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )
> 
> there's a sequel for day 23 because i'm weak and i just love this au too much and i couldn't help myself.
> 
> (also you can find me in [my blog](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com/) ~)
> 
> EDIT: THE AMAZING NEKOKAT42 DRAW [THIS](http://nekokat42.tumblr.com/post/166982563062/nsfw-based-on) AND MAN IT'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER THANK YOU SO MUCH.


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